Hogwarts Arts Festival
by aconsultingwizard
Summary: A collection of one shots written for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): August Event: Hogwarts Arts Festival... Basically my analysis and application to the HP world artwork by a bunch of Scottish Artists
1. Jack Vettriano: Embracing

**I Will Wait For You**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): August Event (Hogwarts Arts Festival): Week 1 (Jack Vettriano): The Secret Of My Success (Pinterest: 317433473707932762)

Word Count: 712

 _Analysis: I think, in the picture, they look sad. They look like they're on a dock or somewhere and they're saying goodbye. He holds his umbrella over both of them, even though the sky is clear, and this just made me want to write Hinny, and how after the war Harry didn't need to protect Ginny anymore but neither could he just flip back into ordinary life like she deserved to._

I don't write in the present tense very often and this is a slightly weird style for me so sorry if it doesn't really work, and any comments about that specifically would be much appreciated x

* * *

The platform is less crowded than usual.

Hogwarts was rebuilt over the summer but many parents are still reluctant to send their children back to the former battleground. The atmosphere on Platform 9 3/4 feels different, somewhat subdued and restrained despite all of the usual noises and sights. Children still run across the station to greet one another, but now their greetings seem less excited and more relieved. Parents with young children who are boarding the train for the first time clutch at their children's hands, unwilling to let go. Older students who have made the decision to return stand around awkwardly, trying to ignore the spaces in their groups which belonged to those who did not survived last year.

Everywhere it is obvious that no one has escaped unscathed from the war. Everyone has lost someone, everyone still has that momentary glimmer of hope when they spot someone who looks like one who was lost. Children stand like loose ends, biting back tears as they look for a parent to help them lift their luggage only to remember once again that they are alone. Parents hover around only children, forcing themselves not to cry out for others as they remember that they no longer have that responsibility, that never again will they have to chastise their dead children for being late.

Aside from the hustle and bustle stands a couple, hands entwined as they lean against the railings. Her red hair falls in his face as she brushes it out of the way and he chuckles, a low sound that makes her want to pull him close and kiss him. He will not return to Hogwarts this year. No matter how much she cajoles him, no matter how sad a face she pulls he is adamant that now is his time to finish the task that he started. He has had the summer to relax, to be with her at the Burrow and think of nothing but dreams and hopes for the future, but now he must go back to the real world and remove any last dangers to the world.

He is also determined that she cannot help. Everything he does, he does for her. He does it so that they can bring up a family in a better world than the one that they grew up in. He has to protect her, and he needs to know that she is safe.

This is her last year as a child, and she wants to finally have a chance to breath. When she leaves, when they are properly together she will never get peace from the papers and so this is her chance to be an ordinary person, to go to school and mess around with her friends and grow up. She has insisted on this separation and he cannot deny her, no matter how empty he knows he will feel without her.

When the whistle goes she kisses him softly and turns to leave. She doesn't make it more than a few steps before spinning around and running back to bury her face in his chest. He wraps his arms around her as she sobs, steeling himself before pushing her away. When their eyes meet, she can see the seriousness and intent in his, and he leans in to whisper to her. It does not matter that he loves her, that he does not know whether he can live without her. All that matters is that this is what she needs, and that he can give it to her.

Her resolve strengthened, she straightens up, giving him one last brush of her lips. Then slowly, she climbs aboard, ignoring the stares and questions to stand quietly at a window, her hand pressed up against the window. He watches her as she waves desperately to him and the train slowly pulls out of the station. As it disappears out of sight he sighs to himself and turns away.

He has things to do, things that he must do before he can allow himself to be with her. But he knows that he will spend this whole year hoping and dreaming of nothing but the flash of red hair as she jumps down from the train into his arms.


	2. Jack Vettriano: Where You Belong

**Come Home To Me**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): August Event (Hogwarts Arts Festival): Week 1 (Jack Vettriano): Where You Belong (Pinterest: 509610514057077108)

Word Count: 711

 _Analysis: So he looks like he's been waiting for ages, and he's obviously ready with the flowers and all, but he also looks a little taken aback by her sheer delight at being home. I struggled to find the pairing I wanted to write for this, but I'm pretty happy with what I chose._

Again, some weird tense stuff so advice much appreciated x

* * *

James paced nervously outside of the cafe where they'd arranged to meet. A few people glanced at him but he ignored them all. They probably thought he'd been stood up but of course the reality was far far worse than that. He checked his watch impatiently, and his heart thudded painfully against his chest as he noticed that she was now half an hour late.

All he could think about were the alternative situations she could be in right now. She could be locked up, tied down, starving, bleeding, bruised. She could be hidden in any number of creepy houses, being tortured by hundreds of different men. He had known it was too dangerous but of course she hadn't listened to him. Of course she'd ran off to go save the world without him, not even telling him where she was going. Even Albus had refused to let him know what she was doing, insisting that she would be safer if no one knew.

He bit down on his tongue hard, trying to stop the nauseous wave he felt at the thought of her being in danger and desperately cast around for some hope. Maybe he'd got the time wrong, maybe he'd picked the wrong cafe to wait outside. But he knew that he had memorised her last whispered message to him word for word. This was where he was to meet her, and she was late.

James resumed his pacing, casting his mind about for something else to think about. Unfortunately that only let him remember the day she had left.

 _He had come home later than usual, and he had expected her to be in bed already. Instead she was sitting at the table, staring down at a piece of parchment. She hadn't met his eyes, and some small part of him had already figured it out, already knew what was happening. Remus had warned him but he hadn't listened, had refused to admit that she would even consider it._

 _"James-"_

 _"No." His voice had been flat, and it had been that that finally made her look up._

 _"James, be reasonable."_

 _"Reasonable? Reasonable! How can you possibly think that this, that letting my wife go and kill herself, is reasonable? How Lily?"_

 _She looked taken aback by his sudden outburst, punctuated by a violent thud as he slammed his hand down, but she held her ground. "It will be perfectly safe James"_

 _"Stop! Stop trying to- don't you understand? It will never be safe!"_

 _"Can't you see that that's why I have to do it? That I have to make it safe so that if we- when we have our own family we can bring them up in a better world? You can't be the only one James, I can't sit here and wonder when you'll come home! I'm going and that's final." Somewhere in that tirade she had stood up and all he wanted to do was take her and kiss her and hold her tight so she could never get away, but instead he had turned away like a petulant child._

 _"Fine."_

He was never going to see her again, and all he would ever remember was that he had shouted at her, that he had hated her for leaving him.

"James!"

He spun around and his heart leapt up into his throat as he saw a swirl of red hair as she rushed towards him.

"Lily! Lily what happened? I thought... I thought you'd-" His words were cut off as she flung herself at him, and suddenly he couldn't remember anything that he'd wanted to say. All that filled his head was the scent of her, and the feel of her, and the tickle of her hair as she nestled her head on his shoulders.

"I missed you." was her only response, and he didn't care that she'd left and that she could have died and that he didn't know where she was. He didn't care anymore because she was home, and she was his again. She had come home and she was safe and he was never letting go of her again.


	3. Jack Vettriano: Just Another Day

**Solitude**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): August Event (Hogwarts Arts Festival): Week 1 (Jack Vettriano): Where You Belong (Pinterest: 453385887458366507)

Word Count: 666

 _Analysis:_ _The world is separated from her by the railings. She has to keep going, but she is not enjoying life, or even a part of it. She is apart from the goings on of the world, alone and isolated as she simply tries to keep moving. I'd normally write about Hermione for something like this but I've already written something similar for her, so it was tricky to pick a character and I've never really done an in depth Parvati but I think it turned out okay._

Warning: Really sad. Feelings of worthlessness, self hatred etc, and so if that will upset you just skip this one x

* * *

They don't understand. None of them understand. They tell me I'm lucky, tell me I should be thankful that I was saved, that Padma was saved, that we are all fine. They don't understand that none of that matters to me. I used to think that if I lost Padma I would lose a part of myself, but I never understood that that could happen if let other people have a little piece of me too.

They think I'm fine. They don't understand that although I can function like anyone else there is a part of my soul that was ripped apart that day.

None of them could ever see it. They thought that she loved Seamus, that she was a flirt, that she meant nothing to me. They thought that Padma was the only one I cared for, that when I wept that day it was with relief that she had survived. They never understood that she wasn't the extra person, the weird girl who tried to make the twins into a trio. None of them could ever see me as an individual person. I was too quiet, too shy. I was everything that she wasn't.

We balanced each other. We were like a harmony, like a set of scales, like everything perfect in this world. When she left me, I was chaos. Inside of me it's all wrong. I clash, two halves of me trying to close the whole that she left. I move through life like everyone else but I'm broken.

I go to work. I train as a Healer. I say all of the right things to all of the right people. I show them that I'm coping, that I'm fine. But I can always feel it. The gap between me and the rest of the world. It is like someone has put up barbed wire, forcing me into isolation, forcing everyone else to leave me alone.

Every week I meet up with Padma and Ron and Dean and Neville and all the rest. Every week we go down to the pub and we talk and tell jokes and I marvel at their shallowness. I am amazed by their capacity to move on, to love, to be happy. I am startled that they do not see the world as I do, in shades of washed out grey. I cannot comprehend how any of them have the right to laugh when the ones who used to laugh loudest are gone.

Sometimes I feel her. Not like a ghost, but there nonetheless. Sitting beside me as they all talk, just there for me. She could always see me. Even when she was at the noisiest party, and they were all drunk stupid, she always noticed me. She made me think that I was special, that I was important.

Now, as I watch everyone else's eyes skip over me once more I know that that was never true. I was only special because she thought so, I was only important because she loved me. By myself, I am nothing, and now I am cursed to be by myself forever.

Sometimes I wonder why I keep going. Why I even bother. But every time I think that I can hear her voice. I can feel her guiding me away from those thoughts. I know that she would want me to carry on, that she needs me to carry on. While I am still here she is remembered as the girl she really was. I alone knew her and I alone can still hear her laugh echo quietly. I know that she's waiting for me, but she is patient and she will wait. And when I see her again, it will be worth it. All I have to do is get through every day until I can see her again, see her golden hair and her blue eyes and then I will be saved.


	4. Jack Vettriano: Lazy Hazy Days

**Oh What a Beautiful Day**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): August Event (Hogwarts Arts Festival): Week 1 (Jack Vettriano): The Secret Of My Success (Pinterest: 317433473707932762)

Word Count: 506 (-123)

 _Analysis:_ _It's obvious in this picture that they are just utterly in love with each other. They are completely at ease together, and even though there are risks (trying to stay on a bicycle made for one person looks tricky to me) they don't care. Of all the pairings I ship, there aren't very many that seem to come as easily as breathing. I felt like it ought to be a canon thing, so this is established Jily fluff._

* * *

"Lily." James' voice was low but she frowned slightly at his interruption. She had been enjoying thinking about nothing but the sunshine and the clear blue sky.

"Shush." She reached up and clumsily put a finger to his lips and felt the curve of his smile. He kissed her finger lightly and she giggled before letting her head fall back against him to once more stare at the sky.

"You know I love you." He was persistent and she felt his arm encircle her stomach, nudging at her ticklish spot.

"I love you too." She answered immediately. It was the truth, a simple truth, and she let it fill her with happiness. She hadn't always believed it, but that didn't matter because now they were together, and it was the only truth that she needed.

James always seemed to think similarly to her, and when he spoke it eerily mirrored her own thoughts. "This time last year I thought that you would never see sense."

"Well, you're very stubborn."

He fell quiet for a moment while she fiddled with the daisies that she was trying, and failing, to weave into a chain.

It didn't take long for James to give up his contemplative mood, he could never think about one thing for very long, and he reached across her to scoop up a couple of strawberries. There wasn't much other food left; they had polished off the picnic that they had brought outside with them very quickly.

She looked up at James and laughed at the red juice dripping down his chin. Carefully he rubbed it off, but she couldn't quite hide the smirk on her face. "You dare to laugh at me?" he asked, and she rolled away from him, knowing what was coming.

James followed her, his fingers stretching towards the bare soles of her feet. "No! James-" With a gasp of breathless laughter Lily had pushed herself off the mat and darted away from him. It didn't take long for him to dash after her, and she could never outrun him. Within moments he had thrown her back down and began tickling her.

"James- James!" She shrieked. In response, he simply smirked and looked down at her. "Not so funny now is it Lils?"

"Stop!" Her attempts to sound indignant mostly failed as she could not stop the laughter. She squirmed away, buying herself a brief respite, and tried to smooth down her tousled hair. Before he could grab her again, she leaned in, wrapping her hands in his hair and forcing their mouths together.

His arms reached up to wrap around her, and when she finally pulled away his eyes met hers. "Not fair Lils." He grumbled.

"Oh?" she asked innocently. "Would you rather tickle me?"

He didn't take very long to think about that, and simply leaned in again, gently pressing his lips against hers. Happy, she let him hold her tight against her, knowing that with James, as always, she was safe.


	5. Peter Howson: David Bowie

**Luna**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): August Event (Hogwarts Arts Festival): Week 2 (Peter Howson): David Bowie (Pinterest: 464011567828045262)

Word Count: 230 (-250)

 _Analysis: This is fascinating. The image itself is incredible, but it is obviously the mismatched eyes which stand out. If the green eye is covered, the picture works as a whole. As soon as that eye is taken into account however, it seems discordant. Both eyes look in different directions, both seeing different things. That one eye seems to rebel against the whole which it is a part of. Everything about it made me think of realisation, and someone who perceives things differently from the norm._

 _At first I was sure that I'd write about Draco for this; my gut instinct was that he just fitted with this image. I think however, that these prompts are about looking deeper, and thinking less literally, and so I finally decided that a deeper look at the image resonated with Luna. It goes against all my initial ideas, but so what?_

* * *

Luna sat quietly in the common room, a serene smile gracing her lips. If anyone were to glance over at her, they would assume that she was reading quietly. There weren't many people around to watch her though as most of her housemates were outside, enjoying the sunshine. The odd Ravenclaw student was tucked up on a sofa, quill scratching against parchment in a determined effort to stay ahead in their studies, but for the most part all was peaceful.

What one could not know simply from glancing at Luna was that she was not, in fact, enthralled by either her book or by the sunlight that filtered in through the narrow window. She was actually carefully studying the small creatures that darted in and out of the slightly open window.

They were very small, and very pretty. Each one stood no higher than her palm and sported a pair of incandescent wings. All of the figures were dazzling shades of yellow; so bright that it was impossible to make out their faces. They made no sound loud enough for the human ear to comprehend, and nobody would ever acknowledge their existence.

Luna knew that they could only be seen after consuming the root of a dirigible plum, but it seemed that no one was willing to try that particular method. She didn't blame them- the ground up root tasted utterly foul, but it was worth it in order to be able to see what she could now.

By now she was used to the lack of enthusiasm about her secret world. It was as if everyone else was happy with their boring ordinary existence. Yes they had magic, but they were missing out so much just because they were skeptical and couldn't bring themselves to trust the word of a girl


	6. Peter Howson: Ugly

**Survivor**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): August Event (Hogwarts Arts Festival): Week 1 (Jack Vettriano): Ugly (Pinterest: 357262182910474768)

Word Count: 515

 _Analysis: The man is scarred, and something about him immediately made me think of Remus. He is scarred and bruised and beaten and_ _still defiant._

* * *

James had been first. Dumbledore had owled him that night, and that was how he heard about the death of one of his best friends. Now of course he knew more information. Now he knew that James had died trying to save Lily. Now he knew how violently and how suddenly his life had been torn from his body and thrown aside, as if he had never been of any significance.

He knew that Lily had followed, leaving only James' son behind. Now, he knew Harry. He wished, more than anything that he had been there for him, when James couldn't. And yet he knew, as he had known then, that that was unthinkable. No one would have let someone like him near a baby, no one would have trusted him.

Peter was next. The quiet boy who had never really fit in, who had always been an easy target for the others, was dead in a more gruesome manner even than James.

And then there was Sirius. Sirius was alive, but with Peter's death came the gut wrenching madness that was the accusation against him. His Sirius, his closest friend was gone, locked up in Azkaban and everyone agreed that he was a mass murderer. And he knew that there was nothing he could do. No matter how convinced he was that Sirius must be, had to be innocent,how could he go about convincing anyone? He couldn't even speak to Sirius, because if anyone knew that Sirius had been in contact with someone like him then no one would believe his innocence.

And then, years later, he had met Harry. Looking at the boy was like looking at James, like looking back in time to better days. Suddenly, everything was different. Sirius was free and the whole world was after him. More than that, Sirius found him and Peter was there and it was as if nothing had changed. But of course everything had changed. One Potter could not replace another, and each of his friends blamed the other for the missing Marauder.

When Peter fled, and it was all over, he left Hogwarts again. He had known that it would be only a matter of time before Severus or some concerned parent stepped in. For someone like him, it was inevitable.

The next years brought a parade of death and it was like before and suddenly it was just him again.

James was dead and Sirius was dead and Peter was dead. Somehow their foursome had been reduced to one. Somehow it was the most unlikely one, the one who never should have survived the bites he had sustained as a child, the one who had suffered for every mark and scar on his face was the one who clawed on to life.

At the end it was he who survived where none of the others had, and that knowledge weighed down on him.

The scars that they had left on his heart were as real as the scars on his face.

He was Remus Lupin. Wizard. Werewolf. Survivor.


	7. John Bellany: Edinburgh

**City of My Heart**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): August Event (Hogwarts Arts Festival): Week 3 (John Bellany): Edinburgh (Pinterest: 548876273306363367)

Word Count: 702

 _Analysis: It's Edinburgh. I can in no way even attempt to explain or describe my city, especially as circumstances outside of my control have ruined any time management this week, but these are just a few snippets of emotion that try to convey my feelings for this place. I'd really like to add to this at some point so come September (when this August thing is over) expect a ton more of this. I love you Edinburgh._

* * *

It is raining. This doesn't bother her though; it is always raining. She thinks that Scotland must be the rainiest place in the whole world. Today the fact that it is raining is excellent as it means that she wear her brand new welly boots. They are red and shiny, and she jumps into a puddle, giggling at the splashes that fly up.

Suddenly she is dragged backwards as a taxi comes racing around the corner, sending up a spray of water. She loves the black cabs that patrol the streets of Edinburgh like watchful guards.

For a while the little girl runs ahead. She pushes through the crowds of people. All of them have their coats turned up against the harsh winds and they all tower above her. The umbrellas with their pretty patterns twirl overhead as the people rush by, all of them busy going places and doing things.

* * *

Now she is older, almost ready to go to Hogwarts. She follows her father carefully as they make their way towards where she knows the hidden entrance to the magical part of the city is. She cannot wait to go to school, but she knows that it means leaving her home, and how can she possibly bear to do that? She doesn't know, because leaving Edinburgh would be like walking out of her life. It will mean that she will lose her familiarity with these streets, that she will no longer know the city like the back of her hand.

* * *

She is back from school on holiday. It is Christmas, and the fair is here. She drags behind her a boy who is a little older than her, and together they don skates and breathlessly race around and around the ice rink.

Later, they step through the market together. She admires the scent of the candles and gasps at the ornate baubles while he fills himself with crepes. It is still there, as if nothing has changed, although she has been away for so long, and is so much older.

She has her first kiss on the top of the ferris wheel, and remains breathless as her carriage continues downwards towards the ground once more. She thinks that never before has the city looked so beautiful, so full of light and life.

* * *

It is not long before the snow has melted and she is heading back to school, the boy she was with fading back into the crowd of muggles back home.

She stands alone at Waverly Station, waiting for the train bound for King's Cross. She begins to read through her Transfiguration textbook, a refresher of what is undoubtedly her favourite class. Everywhere she looks there are people, and she realises that this is the joy of Edinburgh, that the tiny city is filled with so many different journeys, so many hopes and dreams.

* * *

Years later, when she has survived two wars, she finds herself alone in her city once again. She slips easily into her cat form, wanting for just a moment to forget herself as she runs through familiar streets.

It is only when she stops running and morphs back into her human form that she realises she is lost.

It is late, and men reel out of pubs across the pavements stinking of alcohol. Women in stupidly tall shoes zig zag along the pavement and streetlights flicker overhead. People, draped in blankets, huddle against the wall and her heart wrenches as she realises that her beautiful city has been hiding it's ugly side all this time. She has her wand, but she cannot use it here.

She reaches for a wall, running her hand over the rough stone surface in an attempt to calm herself, and suddenly she knows where she is. She slips down a narrow tunnel, hurries up a stone staircase and finds herself once more in the heart of the city.

The city, for once, is quiet. Cars still move along the street, people still hurry arm in arm, but most of the lights are gone. Sighing lightly, she sits down at a bus stop, resigning herself to the unavoidable wait.

Edinburgh is far from perfect, but it is home.


End file.
